


Trench

by gremlinny



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Incorrect Catholic stuff, It hurt me to write this, I’m so sorry, M/M, i am not catholic so excuse the inaccuracies, like I’m so so so so sorry, why did i do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gremlinny/pseuds/gremlinny
Summary: He’s closing up the office when he hears gunshots a few blocks away.





	Trench

It’s late in the evening, and he’s closing up the office when he hears it. A gunshot rings out a few blocks away, and Matt feels his stomach twist into knots. Frank must be patrolling today. Sighing, he tightens his grip on his cane and starts down the sidewalk toward the source of the sound, ready to start preaching to his boyfriend on why murder is wrong.

  
As he gets closer, though, something seems wrong. There were no muttered words—“one batch, two batch, penny and dime”—to precede the killing blow. It’s just the scent of blood, heavy and oppressive as it hangs in the air, and a stuttering heartbeat. Matt quickens his pace, and people around him swiftly get out of his path. Something is definitely wrong.

He rounds the corner, and the source of the heartbeat is sprawled out on the ground. The stench of blood is everywhere, and Matt can’t help but remember something.

 

_“What happens the day someone decides you deserve it, Frank? What then?”_

 

The heartbeat, the blood, the ragged breathing.

 

_“Oh, I’ll tell you what, Red,”_

Matt’s own heartbeat picks up, and he walks forward, the hesitant tapping of his cane echoing against the bricks of surrounding buildings.

**_“They better not miss.”_ **

 

 

“Frank,” he chokes out, and he’s on his knees, crawling toward the person he loves, fingers ghosting over the wound in the man’s chest. “Frank, please, no, no.”  
His hands move up to the Punisher’s face, cupping a bruised cheek and brushing over stubble and scabs, mapping out details of the flesh beneath his palms in desperation.

Frank reaches up and grabs Matt’s wrist, calloused trigger finger squeezing for dear life.  
“Hey, Red,” he wheezes, and there’s the gurgle of blood rising in his mouth.

“Frank, no, no, no, no please God no no no no—“

Frank’s grip tightens. “S-Stay with me, Red, c’mon,” as if he’s not the one dying.

Matt draws in a shaky breath, hands still on the man’s face, and does the only thing he can think to do.   
“Father, have mercy now, on your servant,” he says, and his voice is choked with sobs, “who has n-now… now entered the struggle of his— the struggle of his final agony, and may this prayer of faith comfort and aid him in b—body and s-s-soul. Forgive his sins and protect him with y-your loving care.”  
He can hear his own tears splattering onto Frank’s body, and the rush of blood still pouring out. Frank’s breathing is shallow, now, but he’s still alive.   
“I ask this through… through Christ, our Lord.”

It’s not the correct prayer, or even the full one, but hopefully it works. Matt leans down and latches onto Frank, embracing him tightly as he hears the other man’s heartbeat slowing down.

“I love you, Matt.”

Matt just nods and squeezes tighter, and doesn’t let go, even when the heartbeat fades and the breathing stops.


End file.
